Adam's Rings

by Matthew D. White

  Getting his bearings, he tapped the control on the suit, pivoting him around to face Draco’s construction site. He gained altitude above the station, looking down on the stabilized pod hanging from the construction arm. Two such arms were installed on each side of the station, enough it seemed to account for most maintenance tasks. As he watched, the second arm disconnected a connecting tube from the front of the new pod and set it in place against one of the existing outermost airlocks.

  There was a brief pop of light from the connecting surface as a set of protective shields released and flickered away. Still within operational parameters, Draco seated the tube successfully and moved on to placing the main pod. Again, the shields released as the surfaces neared each other, and the new addition snapped into place as prescribed.

  “That’s it?” Adam asked his overseer.

  “That’s it. This is a simple process that I’ve been programmed to undertake, and the rest of the station has been constructed in much the same way,” Draco confirmed. “The redundant pod will follow in a week, and we will install it on the far side of the station to correct our balance. A slower approach is demanded for the final two pods in the ring, which are equipped with multiple mating surfaces which must be connected in unison.”

  Adam nodded inside his helmet. “I see.”

  Once complete, the next ring in the station would amount to more than a fifty-percent increase in available volume across all levels. Staring across the structure, Adam tried to envision it becoming larger than it already was. The tower of the hydrogen draw slid across his view of their pea-sized star as he wandered back to the airlock, content that Draco’s mission was complete. “Next time, I’m watching you do this from the control room,” he added, drifting slowly above the metal network.

  “I’ll remind you,” Draco replied. “For the moment, the seal to the new arrival is secure. I have begun atmospheric purification operations to ensure the safety of the space, but after completion, you can inspect it for yourself.”

  “What all is loaded in it?”

  “The primary thermal array is folded inside, which will provide additional power from the planet and via available solar radiation. Along with it are four more general orbital probes, plus their specialized sensor packages.”

  Adam had passed by the locked hatches in the floor of the primary ring dozens of times over the months since his waking. With the installation of the new power generator pod, one was finally open. Having smoothly yet expeditiously cleaned up the EMU and the docking bay, he had made his way around the station, hoping to avoid more delays from Draco’s risk-adverse programming.

  Standing over the ladder, he could smell the wafting newness of the encapsulated construction, the slight curing of the plastic and the arid, bitter scent of the freshly-milled aluminum. Adam dropped through, carefully testing his weight on each rung of the conformal ladder before committing to the movement, as if the connecting surface would fail at any moment and send him hurtling into deep space. The seals held tight and he dropped to the floor, feeling heavier than he remembered in the upper levels.

  The inside of the pod was little more than an attic, with two-thirds of the space dedicated to the packed array. The lights were low, casting wide shadows on what could have been a long-forgotten crypt. The pod itself was larger than the similar units in the primary ring, with a solid catwalk ringing the wall and a grated platform filling the rest, fitted with rows of secured equipment pallets.

  Adam reflected on the thought that the previous occupants, the dedicated engineers on the far planet, had last set foot in the space years prior, packing each component with care before sealing it tight for the long flight ahead. It had likely started life in a clean room, with each component that was designed, prototyped, and installed around him propped up by hundreds of hours of engineering consideration. Here at the end, he perceived none of their activities that contributed to the successful capture.

  He wound his way through the secured probes and crates mounted to the deck, willing the labels to mean something to his unaccustomed mind. He was intrigued by the possibilities presented before him; here he had been given access to the full might of a space program and the total authority to do with it what he decided. “These won’t be used by official missions until the next crew arrives, right? After I would have woken up to begin with?”

  “That’s correct.”

  Adam smiled. “So if I come up with some ways to utilize them in the meantime, there’s nothing to stop me?”

  Draco’s response took several seconds, as if the question had prompted an unplanned response. “Technically, yes, but I would highly advise against performing experiments which have a low return on scientific value or risk the survival of the probes. They will be needed for later missions required by NASA.”

  “I can live with that.” Adam smiled. “Can you load up the manifest in the command center? I’d like a full review of all the payload’s capabilities.”

  ***

  Back upstairs, Adam reclined in his monogrammed seat, scanning across the list of equipment that had arrived that day. “Draco, record a broadcast for transmission,” he ordered and turned to the camera on the panel to his left.

  “Sergey, the first pod of the third ring has arrived and was successfully installed. I performed a quick check of the payload and everything appears to be in place. We’ll continue with the deployment of the first thermal array as I get spun up on the sensor systems your team included.” Adam paused. “Thanks for staying with me on this. I can’t wait to see the rest of the station come together.”

  The light flicked off, and Adam went back to the manifest. Among the sensors were four listings for ‘ESA radars’ and he tapped the entry. “Draco, tell me about these.”

  “The Electronically Scanned Array Radars are wide band, software-defined imaging systems for mapping defined areas of the planetary network. In five years’ time, we are scheduled to launch three probes loaded with the ESAs in a slingshot around Saturn to hit a close approach of Uranus.”

  “More atmospheric studies?”

  “Yes, along with sounding pods to directly observe the structure of the planet, similar to our mission here.”

  ***

  Draco’s lessons became more pointed and effective over time. Adam couldn’t tell if it was from the station picking up his own learning difficulties and working around them, or if he was simply becoming more apt to the material. Regardless, the introduction to radar systems caught his interest as they went along and Adam found himself devising plans for their use, perhaps to study the makeup of the rings and moons or execute more in-depth analyses of Saturn’s internal structure.

  Technically, all it was comprised of was an atmosphere, at least the outer layers, and therefore there was theoretically nothing stopping him from shooting a probe straight through the gargantuan body. Given a high enough speed, Adam reasoned he could beat the gravitational pull and have it emerge unscathed on the far side. Retrieval might prove a challenge, he admitted, but nothing a few simulations in the orbital calculator wouldn’t solve.

  “Adam, are you even listening?” Draco’s voice cut in.

  “Yes, yes, of course!” Adam shook away the idea.

  “Good. Remember, basics come first, and then you can call official directives.”

  “What if we shot a probe through the planet itself?”

  “No.”

  “For crying out loud, you are absolutely no fun.” Adam sighed and replied with a chuckle, “All right, if you insist. Back to work.”

  The Journeyman

  The translation between existing within the mind and that of experiencing the real world continually brought new features and bugs that Adam had never before considered. Although the process was supposed to speed up his adolescence, he really had nothing to compare it to, and for that much he was grateful. Sitting in the command center, Adam ran his fingers through his short but wavy locks. “Is it just me or does my hair not grow?”

&n
bsp; “It is an effect of the conditioning that such functions are greatly dampened, although they cannot be stopped altogether.”

  Adam nodded. “Just so it keeps me from needing to cut it?”

  “Yes. The roots are made stronger so you’re less prone to pull the strands out, and when the time comes, I will guide you through the process of trimming them back. The same is true with your nails, which are about double average thickness and highly durable to limit breakage. In another year, it will in similar fashion suppress facial hair growth,” Draco stated.

  “So, if I were to slice some of it off?”

  “There’d be no going back and your best bet would be to remove it entirely and start over again in a few orbits, once I alter your nutrient intake to support the growth.”

  “Gee, thanks for the warning,” Adam said. “That would have been an unfortunate lesson to learn the hard way.”

  “Understood. I will add it to the baseline operations manual for your body and keep it under advisement for next time.”

  Adam was fairly certain that the AI was slowly developing a sarcastic streak and more than likely pulling his chain, but he didn’t dig deeper. At some level, having his own personality rub off on the computer was a comforting effect, especially since he was without the infinitely more diverse option of actual human contact.

  ***

  Adam did as he had promised during the previous capture and watched the camera feeds in the command center during the second thermal array’s installation. Machine-language instructions poured down the central screen as Draco managed the competing forces present across the string of capricious assemblies. The operation proceeded at a speed that was incomprehensible to a mere human, and Adam found himself at once in awe.

  Once the installation was complete and with equilibrium again restored to the station, Draco continued by unfurling the arrays themselves. Comprised of massive silken panels, they caught a vital supply of radiation from the planet to bolster their current power generation capacity for the expanding mission of humanity’s farthest reach into the heavens.

  Adam continued to toy with the orbital dynamic calculator between lessons, intent on studying the flight characteristics of the probes. Their station’s tilted orbit within the ring structure itself further complicated any potential launches. His simulations grew into the hundreds, with each one playing out on the displays in the command center before flying off into deep space or crashing and burning beneath their host’s gravitational well.

  He remained determined, despite the failures of approaching their host, and pivoted his analysis on a transit of Atlas, one of the closest rocky bodies to the station’s orbit. Adam adjusted the launch parameters incrementally, until he reached a state that would provide him a single flyby of the moon before being slingshot back to the station for a recapture.

  He paused, replaying the final simulation profile a second and then a third time. With each successive attempt, it came back within a stone’s throw of the station without any course corrections to speak of. “Draco,” he asked as he pulled his attention from the monitor, “can you confirm the simulation? I think I’ve got a clean route to Atlas and back.”

  “Standby… That is correct,” The computer replied. “With a full payload and smooth fuel burn rate, we should be able to perform the launch and recapture it after three-point-four-seven planetary orbits.”

  Adam smiled. If the launch was successful, he’d have the first high-resolution look of not only Atlas, but the structure of the rings which were resting in the space between the orbit of the moon and Draco Station. The visual range cameras were supplied in bulk, and each probe had plenty of space to house a radar array as well. If he set the parameters correctly and collected a sufficient swath of data, he’d be able to build a flight profile for every bit of ice and rock in range.

  “If this is your intention, you’d best get working,” Draco said.

  Adam shook himself out of the thought. “Why’s that?”

  “The launch window that you’re relying on in order to hit Atlas and utilize its gravity properly will close in sixteen hours. You’d best get building if you want a probe to launch.”

  Adam checked the simulation, and the timestamp didn’t lie; he’d need the probe ready the following day or else the geometry would be too far off for a good capture on the return. He got to his feet. “All right, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”

  ***

  Most of Draco Station’s equipment ran on a common data protocol that allowed nearly every scientific instrument aboard to be tethered together and share their signals. Timing, power, and data busses were all synchronized to enable maximum flexibility for whatever missions might have been directed to be performed. This would make the probe’s assembly that much easier, Adam knew, as long as he could find the parts in decent time and write the routines which would manage their operation.

  Dropping down to the storage facility in the closest thermal array pod, Adam unpacked four of the cameras and an ESA radar. After carefully staging the payload by the hatch, he proceeded to carry them individually up to the docking bay, where an empty probe waited for its assignment.

  The empty probe was little more than a cylindrical equipment frame mounted above a stout booster for maneuvering. Each selection of hardware resembled a pie slice, slipping into the rack from the outside and connecting to a common port at the center. The assembly moved quickly, and Adam soon went on to programming in the flight profile and the data collection schedule.

  “I’m assuming you’ll take over the orbital corrections once this comes back in range,” he said to Draco, focusing his attention the service terminal in the docking bay.

  “That is correct,” Draco responded. “I will allow your experimentation within reasonable bounds, although I cannot let you lose valuable equipment.”

  “I hope you don’t need to worry about that,” Adam said as he completed the simple sequence of routines for the probe’s operation. Timed camera firings, radar maps, spin rates, and relative motion parameters were all available in the library and simple to incorporate. The mission profile was already loaded from the orbital simulator, and all he added were the data collection parameters. If all went well, they’d retrieve the probe with full memory and a complete account of the flight. Pleased with the way it operated, he flashed the onboard memory and rolled the probe to the launcher.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Adam stopped and looked over his creation. “Fuel, right,” he said with a sigh and pulled the small pressurized tank free from its bracket beneath the payload. Cradling it gently, he made his way up through the station to the hydrogen draw.

  The ascent was bumbling at best as Adam kept a firm grip on the tank’s handle while hopping from one rung of the ladder to the next. “The team on the ground really didn’t have a better way for fueling these things, other than by dragging them straight up the shaft?” he asked as the climb progressed.

  “If you would seriously rather have pipes of flammable gas running through every wall in the station after you’ve already seen one pod compromised, you are free to suggest it during the next block upgrade,” Draco said with a hint of artificial mockery. “Regardless, the added weight required by the additional lines was deemed a low priority for an activity that would be accomplished infrequently. It is only a problem when fueling probes and tools as the landers and transports have the ability to externally dock with the tail of the draw and charge directly.”

  “Understood,” Adam said as he hoisted the tank over the final hatch and set it on the floor below the massive cylindrical draw. He paused to catch his breath. “Maybe we can make a deal on a winch?”

  “Absolutely not. You’ll need to fend for yourself.”

  There were times when Adam felt that Draco was testing him, that his problem-solving abilities were being put to the test for his own good. A side hypothesis was that the machine was bored and was simply toying with him for its own amusement; he hoped it w
as the former. Adam didn’t know directly whether the missions he had decided to undertake had any real value, but it was clear that the station could shut him out of whatever it chose to, so he had to assume it was all part of his training.

  He uncoiled a thick, braided fuel line from the back of the draw and attached it to the capsule, pausing to watch the regulator fill the container. It hit maximum pressure quickly, and he retraced his steps back through the station to the docking bay, although more slowly and carefully, owing to the added mass of the loaded tank. The final preparations took only minutes before he slid the fully-assembled contraption into the launch port like a stubby torpedo, closing the hatch behind it.

  “Ready when you are,” Adam announced to Draco, watching through the tiny observation window mounted in the airlock’s inner hatch.

  “Standby. Aligning telemetry,” Draco replied. “Prepare to launch.”

  On the far side of the glass, the airlock opened and the probe slipped free of the station in a quick burst of gas, disappearing instantly into the darkness. Adam stared at the empty chamber, for a moment let down that he had just watched a colossal effort vanish in a puff of air. It passed in a breath and gave way to the pleasure of witnessing his idea proceed from a single thought to operational utilization. “Add its progress to the command center display,” he ordered. “I want to know if this works.”

  ***

  The following lecture on quantum electrodynamics ran on for the better part of the day, and at its conclusion, Adam made a run through the main level as he normally did to restore the blood flow to his extremities. He stopped in the middle of his second lap to walk backward through the storage bay, letting his mind wander amongst the rows of equipment cabinets as he let his muscles relax. For the first time, a container marked with the safety harnesses caught his eye and he went for the door, oddly intrigued.

  Safety cables were nothing new on the station—they had already saved his life more than once during his spacewalks—but the diagram on the case didn’t match his memory. He dug through the contents, finding several bundles of the exceedingly strong thread before reaching the back and finding a smooth metal box fitted with connecting points on both the front and back.